


Unhealthy

by Mitsuky



Series: Unrequited lovers of Skyrim [3]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angry Guild Master, Angry Igmund, Argis is a snarky bitch, Cydhna Mine, Drinking to Cope, Heavy Drinking, Multi, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, but he's a pal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:01:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22335229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mitsuky/pseuds/Mitsuky
Summary: The Guild Master takes the Dragonborn away to drink his sorrows away and forget, so they get wasted for many days as a result. But, he's unable to stay drunk (or put) for too long and gets in trouble. The Guild Master sacrifices herself, he's lucky she likes him. Her grandfather...not so much.
Relationships: Male Dovahkiin | Dragonborn & Thieves Guild Master, One-sided Argis the Bulwark/Ondolemar, Thieves Guild Master/Ondolemar
Series: Unrequited lovers of Skyrim [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1607593
Kudos: 1





	Unhealthy

**Author's Note:**

> Where is this coming from?  
> Seriously...

###### 7th Morning Star, 4E 206, Silver-Blood Inn

After finally growing some balls and actually asking Lydia if she was in a relationship with Aela, Asger grew more and mopier as time went by until Elana kicked his ass out of Breezehome and Whiterun altogether.

She didn’t want to return to Riften just yet, so she sent a message to her second in command with pretty much straightforward letter saying ‘I’m not returning just yet and I don’t give a fuck if you get angry, deal with it’ and packed her and Asger’s things, hauling his ass to a cart and paying the driver to take them ‘wherever’ while the duo got smashed with the three crates of assorted alcohol bottles she packed along for the ride ahead of them.

Elana isn’t sure, 'cus everything's too fuzzy, but she has the strange feeling that returning to Rorikstead for a while will be a bad idea. Not that she cares too much about it during the short period of sobriety between waking up at Dragon Bridge and getting on the cart again after lunch. She doesn’t remember much of anything after leaving Whiterun to be honest, so imagine her surprise when she wakes up in the Silver-Blood Inn, three days later, to an angry Kleppr, no idea why he throws her out and he looks so angry, the innkeeper grunting obscenities under his breath, and her bag being thrown over her head while she blinks dumbly trying to gather back her bearings and ignoring the painful headache.

A few guards laugh at her when she collects her things from the floor, that spilt out of the bag when it hit the ground. She flips them the middle finger and thanks them for their help while walking away. It’s a hassle to go up the stairs leading to her friend's house, more than usual with her terrible hangover, but she accomplishes the task (barely) and barges into the house.

The tip of a very sharp blade greets her. The face at the end of it sighs and relaxes after getting a glance at her.

“Interesting way to greet a lady, Argis. I gather you have them like putty in your hands with such manners.”

Argis rolls his eyes, turning around without a word and sitting in front of the fire. Elana follows suit, dumping her bag next to the chair and slumping over the wood.

“If you’re looking for Asger, he isn’t here,” Argis comments, moving around the coals and causing sparks to fly about.

“Are you sure? I’m pretty confident I hauled his mopping ass out of Whiterun and all the way over here as drunk as Rolff Stone-Fist any other given day…”

“You know him,” Argis shrugs, “Alcohol has an effect on him only as long as he keeps getting soaked in the stuff and absorbing it like a sponge.”

Elana grunts, rubbing her eyes and covering her middle. “I swear if I have so much as another look at a bottle of anything, I’ll throw up. He’s so damn hard to keep up with.”

“Hear hear,” Argis mocked with a snort and she gives him the middle finger. Argis gasps dramatically, “That is no way for a _lady_ to behave.”

“Go get bent, Bulwark.”

Argis chuckles and grabs her bag, manhandling her whining body to the bed in the guest room. “Sleep it off, I’ll have something ready to help your stomach in a while.”

“You’re a God sent,” Elana mumbles against the pillow, already losing focus and falling asleep.

* * *

“What do you mean he’s at Cidhna Mine?!” Elana holers at the guard and over the noise of the Jarl and his guests discussing something nearby. “How did this happen exactly?” She asks with a hard edge on her voice, enjoying the fear her commanding tilt has in the baby guard.

The boy stammers as few words, turning to his companion for help once it becomes clear that he can’t deal with her. The other man snorts and calls the boy a milk-drinker, coming face to face with Elana and trying to intimidate her into submission with his wider frame and empty threats. She smiles sardonically at the Nord, looking down at him from her upturned nose and irritating him to no end. She deals on a daily basis with an entire guild of whoresons and her ‘investors’ so there is no way in Oblivion that _he_ is going to intimidate _her_ anytime soon.

“Is there any problem here?” A voice from someone she _didn’t_ want to deal with interrupted.

“Keep off my business, Ondolemar.”

“Do you know this woman, commander?” The voice of the _Jarl_ surprises her and she glances sideways at the group.

“She’s my fiancé, Jarl Igmund,” the mer replies and Elana suppresses the _rising need_ to throttle the elf. “Let me introduce you to Lady Elana Silineus,” he said, forcibly turning her around to face the Jarl.

Elana glares at the mer, “I never agreed to that,” she said between clenched teeth.

“You didn’t need to,” Ondolemar comments without even looking in her direction, “Your grandfather arranged it in your stead, to make sure that you don’t go astray during your...unexpected stay at Skyrim.” _Like your mother did_ was implied in the openness at the end of his sentence.

Elana felt ready to commit murder under the gaze of many witnesses, right then and there.

“Congratulations are in order then, Commander,” Jarl Igmund exclaims, giving them a not-so-happy smile.

“We thank you, Jarl,” the mer nods stiffly at the man. “Now if you excuse us-”

“Excuse yourself,” Elana growls, taking her hand from his with needless strength, “I’m not leaving until these fucktards tell me why my friend is in jail!” Her accusing finger goes ignored by everyone except the soldiers. “I want to know what happened to Asger. What reasons did you have to imprison the _Dragonborn_?”

Ondolemar’s eyes twitches. Huh…

“Excuse me?!” The Jarl exclaims in outrage. “You did what?” He turns angrily to the soldiers. “My Thane has been imprisoned and nobody bothered to even _inform_ me about it?” The soldiers share a nervous look and turn back at the Jarl, mute. “Well?! Explain yourselves!”

* * *

“So, yeah, that happened,” Elana finishes retelling to Asger how she found him and got him out of imprisonment, without even having to as much as raise a finger (surprisingly) or threaten anyone. Well, maybe for the exception of Ondolemar. “You owe me big time now,” she pouts remembering _how_ she got Asger released, “I had to accept to go to at least _five dates_ with him before I decide I don’t like him and dishonor him by cancelling our engagement! I never thought I’d hate someone I don’t even know so much,” she grumbles and chugs more mead.

“I’m forever grateful for your selflessness and help, my friend. I have no idea how I’ll ever repay you for getting me out of the decision of working with a crazy Forsworn King to escape, or kill him and having to answer to crazy Silver-Bloods later on for killing his favourite prisoner.”

“Yeah,” Argis grunts from where he’s fixing them a meal, “Because agreeing to go on dates with her pretty boy, in exchange for help getting you out of trouble, is such a selfless and sacrificial thing to do. It’s not like he’s a nice piece of eye-candy at all.”

“If you want to go get bent with Ondolemar, he’s all yours,” Elana scrunches her nose. “I’d rather keep far away from the Thalmor, thank you very much.”

“If I had a chance I’d tap that without a second thought, consequences be damned.” Argis hums wistfully, “I’d die happy too.”

“Argis,” Asger whines as if in pain. “Please, stop.”

Elana snorts, “You and your straight sensibilities.”

Asger rolls his eyes, “Change of subject, please. How about this newly revealed grandfather of yours…?”

“Oh, don’t get me started on that,” Elana scoffs, “I’ve just learned of the guy a year ago, heard from him only twice, and I'm ready to go as far as breaking the law for him.”

Argis guffaws in front of the pot, “Ready to commit murder, are you?”

“You have no idea,” Elana sighs, getting another bottle of mead.

“To murder-y thoughts and fantasies,” Asger raises his own bottle, “Because they’re the only thing that keeps us sane (or as little as I’m able to anyway) and out of jail...sometimes.”

Elana laughs, “Cheers!”

“I’ll drink to that,” Argis joins with a good laugh of his own.

**Author's Note:**

> My aunt just went to the beach on holidays and what do I get?  
> ...  
> Nanny duties.  
> F*ck me.  
> 


End file.
